may i impress
and may i terrify
the streets confess
that they search for my eye.
contently lost,
i do my best to irritate.
though if my eyes find you... will you fear or run to.
74 stares, 16 call outs, 7 offered rides, 1 ****** coffee.
all for a pretty outfit.
like nirvana said
**** me.
they would never.
because along with the pretty there is volatile anger
eyes that search to burn not to kiss,
hands that will only ever touch to ****.
but still so pretty,
mirror me admits,
said she'd **** me.
such beautiful lost potential walking the streets
floating in this pavement sea.
dream about me will you?
something nice, some sun, a smile or maybe even two,
dream of me and love,
not hunts nor haunting questions.
dream of me in peace.
serenity.

i swallow salty tears as i remind myself what my 14 brings every year.
it brings me the "you're so alone" whispers,
the i have never seen such misery.
you tear *****.
you cry behind the ladder in the backyard while another round of bores rest in your house for this year's round of applause.
i age so carelessly i wish to never age like this again,
and i tell myself so
every
*******
year.
i know what 14 brings.
lustrous giggles
empty minds
sleepless nights.
nothing more than impurity
**** this 14
**** time.
i don't want my time anymore.
pointless to think my 14s will ever feel more than running out of air in your lungs,
ever feel better than a slap across the face from mother universe.
it laughs in my face.
i'd cry a little more if i wasn't running out of time,
cry at the romanian poetry I've received as a gift,
cry over my Edgar Allan Poe and Sylvia Plath gifts.
cry over my mom telling me i don't know how to have fun ever since we've moved.
cry over my daddy blowing me kisses from a phone thousands of kilometers away just like when i was six.
cry with myself in the mirror because i always end up like this.
november is the month of disaster and 14's the day of revenge.
happy birthday.

i searched for a suicide hotline today, in one of my classes,
knowing too well that i shouldn't expect for one to exist,
after all we're too small of a country to think of suicide.
but i found one,
and it was called antisuicide.com
ironically though, the hotline only functioned between 7:00 and 19:00
so if you want to die at midnight there's nothing of that sort to stop you.
good luck

haha...there's nothing here to disown
timeless youth
nothing here to keep,
just me.
i'd call you to tell you that i am so much more alive now,
but i'm scared you liked me better when i wasn't.
i'd call you to tell you that you might've been the truest form of love i've ever felt,
but i'm scared you won't even answer.
grey is every word you sent me
and i'll keep it like that,
i was never meant to be there anyway.
i told my mom about you and she laughed,
she knew i always bring in secrets,
and you were one i didn't even know about.

you know what's funny?
me sitting in this online class,
begging myself to keep my patience.
these people haven't seen anger yet,
but they just might.

It can't really be 01:10
Tommorow can't be real
The soft voices in my ears are saying it too.
It's too late to be this early.

Such an honour to meet you,
My suicidal rendition of self,
I think i love you
.